The Lovelife of Our Favourite Detective
by demonprosecutor
Summary: Detective Gumshoe finds a few surprises at work one day. Rated T to be very. very safe.


DISCLAIMER: I don't own Phoenix Wright – if I did, poor Gumshoe's salary would be way higher

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Phoenix Wright – if I did, poor Gumshoe's salary would be way higher. **This one's for GUMSHOELOVER.**

Dick Gumshoe trudged into work. It was raining outside; his trench coat was sopping wet and his hair stuck to his forehead. He'd had to walk twenty blocks from his run-down flat to the office with no umbrella or anything else to keep him dry. He had been splashed by at least eight cars driving through puddles, and an old lady, eager to get to her morning bingo session, shoved him out of the way into what seemed to be a small lake in the middle of the pavement. All in all, the day hadn't started out so well.

He sat down on his swivel chair and draped his coat over the back. Unfortunately, due to a minor tragedy involving a very heavy stapler, the swivel chair didn't swivel anymore. Gumshoe couldn't afford a new one.

He pulled out some paperwork from his briefcase, only to discover that his briefcase had a leak in it and the paperwork, having been swimming for the past half an hour, has smudged. Now instead of blue writing on white paper, it was more like white splodges on blue paper. Prosecutor Von Karma wasn't going to react well to this. Gumshoe was a dead man.

The sound of distant whiplashes warned Gumshoe that the dark queen of the whip was approaching, probably with another flogging for the pitiable detective. He was nearly immune to the pain now, but the scars up and down his arms weren't exactly pretty. Gumshoe pretended to be working as she glided through the door. When Franziska Von Karma entered a room, she entered it in style.

A shadow fell over Gumshoe as he huddled in the corner with his ancient computer. The sky outside the window seemed to turn even greyer, and the heater turned itself off with fear, giving the room an icy chill. Everyone was silent, pretending to be working but really watching Gumshoe out of the corner of their eyes to see what punishment their unfortunate colleague would receive today.

"Um…good morning, pal – I mean, Ma'am," he stuttered, trying not to make eye contact.

"Oh, it's always a good morning with you, detective," Franziska whispered, perching herself on the end of his desk. Gumshoe nearly fell off his broken chair with shock.

"I…er…pardon?"

Franziska answered only with a wink.

"Um…Ms Von Karma, I'm afraid that paperwork you gave me to complete sort of got ruined," Gumshoe began, trying desperately to change the subject.

"Oh, that's a shame – maybe you'd like to come round to my office to sort it out – let's say, eight? We can have dinner there…"

"Uh…I'm kind of busy this evening," stammered the detective, stumbling over his words.

"Oh, maybe another night then…detective."

She left, leaving Gumshoe stunned. Every other detective stared at him, mouth open and eyes bulging. He had a lot of explaining to do.

About twenty minutes later Gumshoe made his way to the coffee machine for a cup of coffee – his breakfast. Unfortunately he didn't have enough money on him, so he'd have to wait till he got home to have any food. He was regretting declining Franziska's invitation now.

"Well, hello, handsome."

Gumshoe glanced over his shoulder to see Angel Starr, an array of lunches before her.

"Care for a lunch?"

"Uh, sorry pal, I've got no money."

"For you, honey, it's free."

She batted her eyes at him and handed over a steak lunch. That juicy steak, cooked to perfection – how could the poor detective refuse! He received the steak with a look of gratitude mixed with confusion.

"Anything else I can do for you, gorgeous?"

"Uh…no."

"You sure? Meet me in the parking lot at about eight-ish and I'm sure you'll have thought of something."

"Uh…I'm busy this evening."

"Maybe another tie, good-looking."

Gumshoe finally made his escape, his face bright red with surprise and embarrassment.

He fled down the corridor at top speed, and thwacked into Lana Skye, sending her flying.

"Argh! Prosecutor Skye, I am so, so sorry!" he said, foreseeing his salary getting lower and lower in the very close future.

"Oh, don't worry, that's fine." She flashed a smile at him.

"Oh…in that case, I'll be off then."

"Not so soon, detective." She flung her scarf over his head and pulled him closer to her. He was trapped. There was no running away from this one.

"What a shame we're in the middle of a corridor," she whispered, "Come to my office at around eight-ish and – "

"I'm busy," Gumshoe said quickly, wanting to get this over as soon as possible.

"Oh dear – maybe another night then." She released him.

Gumshoe wolfed the steak down in seconds, so he worked through lunch, not wanting to risk a run in with anyone. This had been a weird morning, and somehow Gumshoe felt it was only going to get weirder.

"SIR! PROSECUTOR EDGEWORTH WOULD LIKE TO SEE YOU IN HIS OFFICE RIGHT NOW, SIR, NO DELAY!!" yelled Mike Meekins. Gumshoe got up and immediately began to make his way to the glamorous office upstairs.

"ARE YOU FREE TONIGHT, SIR?"

"No," Gumshoe growled. This was starting to get annoying.

"MAYBE ANOTHER NIGHT…SIR!"

Gumshoe only had to knock once before he was told to come in. Edgeworth sat with a cup of tea in one hand and a case file in the other, working hard but remaining stylish while doing so.

"Ah, detective. I've been waiting for you."

"I hope you haven't been waiting long, sir."

"Oh, but detective, I've been waiting since I first met you. Waiting. Yearning."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm busy tonight, maybe another night, sure, whatever pal." He slammed the door and stomped out into the corridor, down the stairs and back to his desk. He played minesweeper for roughly an hours until a unique event occurred. Three prosecutors, a lunch lady and a security guard walked into the office in hysterics, Meekins' laughter seeming especially loud because of the megaphone.

"Detective Gumshoe, we have an apology to make," began Angel Starr before exploding into a giggling fit.

"Detective, we took advantage of your gullibility. You obviously don't know what day it is," explained Edgeworth, pointing to the calendar. April the first.

"Now, because of your foolishness, we're going to give you a salary cut. And that's not a prank. We really are," declared Franziska.

Gumshoe could have cried.

Later that day Gumshoe sat in a dead-end bar drowning his sorrows. With tap water. He couldn't afford anything else.

"Hey there, sir! What's up?"

Gumshoe glanced up from his water to see Maggey Byrde, chirpy and chipper as always. She smiled her sparkling smile and suddenly life didn't seem so bad.

"Oh, nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Um…Detective Gumshoe? I was wondering if you were busy tonight – would you like to come over for dinner around eight-ish? Unless, of course, you're busy."

"I…I'd love to."

Maybe this day wasn't so bad after all.


End file.
